Glow in the dark

I have this friend.

We’ll call him Bob.

Bob is fiendishly obsessed with pornography.

I know this because he admitted to me that he masturbates close to ten times a day.

I didn’t know that was even POSSIBLE.

Seems like someone who can do that shouldn’t be a Senior Construction Engineer, but a porn star.

Clearly, the man has a talent.

Or an imbalance.

You be the judge.

Bob and I used to sext.

He gave good sext, I like to say.

He was graphic without being disgusting.

He used punctuation properly.

Nothing worse than a poorly typed sext message.

Yes, I am a grammar snob.

Bob liked to send dick pics, and lots of them.

And there was something remarkable about these pictures.

Bob’s UNIT virtually GLOWED IN THE DARK.

It was so well-polished from years of [ahem] use.

You may be wondering why I’m telling you all this and the answer is simple.

Yesterday, Bob called to tell me that he’s getting married.

That’s right.

Married.

Now, if a guy who masturbates 10 times a day (honestly, who has the time?) can meet a woman, fall in love, and get engaged, then there’s HOPE FOR ME!

And don’t you feel a little bit sorry for his bride-to-be?

I’ll bet he’s on her like white on rice!

Underboob

My new dresses arrived in the mail.

I was eager to try them on, so I stripped and slipped into the first one.

Now something I DIDN’T notice when I bought the dress, but that I DID notice BEFORE it arrived is that it has a keyhole opening at the bust line.

Yes, indeed.

Now, I’m sure for someone less ENDOWED than me, this is NBD.

However, when you are a 38G, keyhole breast openings become something of a problem.

And this keyhole opening is no exception.

I called my sister.

“Check out this pretty new dress I got,” I said to her.

She took one look at the picture and swore that my dress was REALLY inappropriate for going to Florida with The Swede and his goalie daughter.

“Maybe if you were on vacation, just the two of you,” she explained.

“But since there’s a teenager involved and FAMILIES at the ice arena, you probably should rethink that dress,” she finished.

Now, normally I think showing my breasts is no big deal.

I’ve been known to show them off once or twice.

[cough]

But it just didn’t sit right with me, walking around in a dress where I could potentially have a nip slip or something worse.

Granted, if I wore the dress I’d probably have my bathing suit under it, rendering it more G-rated.

But as it stands, R-rated dresses and 17 year old teenage goalies just don’t mix.

I returned the dress.

Fucking algorithms!

Facebook is irritating me right now.

You know how they use algorithms to promote ads in your Facebook stream?

Well, they’ve sorta got me right and they’ve sorta got me ALL WRONG.

You see, Facebook keeps showing me ads for beautiful bohemian sundresses.

Just my style.

I “oooh” and “aaah” over them and CLICK.

Then I’m taken to a website that offers their clothes in three sizes – S, M, and L

Size 2 – 10.

What’s a curvy girl to do, I ask?

It’s the MOST IRRITATING thing in the world, to see a beautiful dress only to realize it doesn’t come in your size.

WTF is Facebook showing me these links?

Has it not figured out yet that I am a thick chick?

Seriously!

If you really want to piss off a plus size woman what do you do?

You take her to a store where nothing fits and tell her to find something that works.

Facebook is SERIOUSLY losing points with me.

As if showing me all the men I’ve dated in the “You Might Know” section isn’t bad enough, now they’ve gone and fucked it up again.

Fucking algorithms!

Retail Therapy

After witnessing that road rage incident in Los Gatos, I went home and indulged in a little retail therapy.

Getting outfits for Florida AND letting off a little steam?

Just what I needed.

Believe it or not, I found a plethora of summer dresses on deep discount at Nordstrom Rack.

I bought a $200 Show Me Your Mumu dress for $40.

I also bought two other dresses at $30 a piece.

So I now have a total of 5 new dresses and I’m spending 7 days in Florida.

Perfect.

I did come across a dress with a tropical cocktail print that I would LOVE to wear on my vacation, however it is no longer available in my size.

I’m posting it here so you can look at it and sigh, along with me:

What I haven’t really worked out yet is my bathing suit situation.

Of course I have a new high waisted black bikini:

But we’ve already established that I’m not too keen on wearing my bikini.

So I MIGHT wear this cool one piece I have:

I love the lace up sides and strappy top.

Tejas assures me BOTH suits are appropriate, especially given the fact that I will be there with my favorite Swede.

Tejas believes that Europeans have a different view of the scantily clad human form.

All I am hoping is that The Swede likes MY form.

It’s Official!

Well, it’s official!

I fly into Florida on April 21st and I return to the Bay Area on the 28th.

In that week, I’ll get to hang out with The Swede and his goalie daughter.

As I’ve been perusing my closet, I’ve come across things I’m NOT going to wear in Florida.

A bikini, of any kind.

Not even high-waisted.

If MY kids roll their eyes when I’m wearing one, I should spare The Swede’s daughter the awkwardness.

A harness.

Ok, this is odd, but I did come across a harness I wore under a bathing suit to give it that dominatrix feel.

Not gonna need that in Florida.

Also?

The tan lines!

Another thing I’m not bringing with me?

Any kind of muumuu.

But I do have a rainbow colored kaftan which I love so I MIGHT have to break this rule.

But only because this is a special kaftan and it makes me happy to wear it.

Also, it takes up almost no space in my luggage.

And space is a consideration.

What I am going to bring?

Sunblock.

And lots of it.

I’m going to BATHE in it three times a day.

This hat

I bought a hat worthy of a diva to shade me from the sun.

And finally, one thing I will be bringing on my trip to Florida. . .

. . .

Damn near the most perfect wedge sandal I’ve laid eyes on.

Perfect with every dress I bring.

The Toilet Dilemma

In my last camp at Burning Man, we had a dedicated porto potty for the camp to use.

This was INCREDIBLY convenient.

I loved not having to walk a few blocks to use the communal porto potties.

Those things get nasty SUPER FAST on the playa, while a private porto potty usually remains pretty clean and usable (i.e. women can sit on the seat without fear of contracting a deadly fecal disease).

So now I’m in a new camp and I’m researching porto potties to bring one into camp.

You may not know this – I didn’t – but you need one porto potty per day for every 30 people you have camping with you.

Exciting news, eh?

We have 40 people in our camp, so I’m guessing we can still get away with one porto potty so long as we get regular pump outs.

And by regular, I mean DAILY.

My dilemma is this: even if we do manage to get a porto potty in my new camp, I am wondering if I should still bring my little portable toilet:

It’s the size of a briefcase and fits nicely in my tent.

I simply HATE getting up in the middle of the night and braving the cold playa weather in my nightgown in order to use the loo.

I know, I know.

First world problems.

A porto potty AND a private toilet?

Aren’t I spoiled.

But on the playa, it’s the little luxuries that make the burn.

And a private toilet sure as hell beats even a CLEAN porto potty any day of the week.

Despite the fact that the toilet seals nicely so it can be carried to a porto potty and dumped, I’m worried about the smell.

No way I want my hot tent smelling of piss.

So perhaps I’ll bring the portable toilet, perhaps I won’t.

Maybe I’ll bring another tiny tent and it’ll be my changing room / bathroom.

Now, won’t that be elegant?

LOL

SHOCK

I have this friend.

We’ll call him Sam.

Sam was driving in San Francisco when he made, admittedly, a San Francisco merge.

The man driving behind him became so irate that he actually rammed Sam’s car with his own, then proceeded to back up into the car behind him before taking off dragging Sam (who had gotten out of his car) a distance down the road.

Sam managed to free himself when the car slowed down but required an ambulance ride to the hospital as well as medical assistance and rehab.

Sam recounted this story to me yesterday as we sat outside Philz Coffee in Los Gatos.

I was floored.

When we said our goodbyes, I wished him safe travels, images of road rage fresh in my mind.

I walked to my truck.

All of a sudden, from behind me, a car squealed out of a parking spot at a very rapid speed.

There was a man half in the passenger side window, his legs hanging out the window.

The driver suddenly stopped, then just as suddenly took off again, as if he was trying to shake the man from his car.

My adrenaline started pumping.

I pulled out my phone, to make a call to the police but instead I took a picture of the car:

I LITERALLY was shaking as I watched the trapped man extricate himself from the car before the car took off and drove away.

It was as if the words Sam and I spoke conjured up this road rage incident.

I IMMEDIATELY called Sam and told him what happened, my voice, hands, and whole body quaking.

It took me a good 10 minutes to calm down enough to drive.

The man who had been hanging out the car calmly walked to another car, got in, and drove off.

Was it a friendly prank?

A drug deal gone bad?

A failed car jacking?

Who knows?

All I know is that road rage is not worth risking the precious life of another human being.

Stay safe everyone.

Winner, winner chicken dinner!

I’m just going to say this because it makes me happy.

Today one of my bosses complimented my work on a project.

I virtually BLOSSOMED from the compliment!

It was so nice to hear, especially after I BOMBED helping out a colleague by providing support for her VIP.

Ok, maybe I didn’t bomb.

But I sure as hell didn’t get any compliments.

So you can imagine that this compliment was MUSIC to my ears.

My boss then proceeded to ask me to sit on a hiring committee because I know the university culture and can make suggestions regarding acculturation.

Of course I said yes.

And can I tell you, I’m pleased as punch to have someone appreciate my talents in the office.

I’ve been doing this 14 years.

I hope I’ve learned a thing or two.

To be honest, BOMBING with the VIP contributed to my newfound success with my own boss.

It made me think about how to better support my boss’ activities and research.

I started to emulate what my colleague does to support her VIP.

And wouldn’t you know it?

It’s being met with approval.

I must thank her for going on vacation and giving me training on what she does to support her VIP.

Clearly, she knows how to support someone with a complex calendar and set of activities.

Winner, winner chicken dinner!

Belly dancers, flow performers, and 4-handed massages, OH MY!

I went to an OUTRAGEOUSLY wonderful party this past weekend.

It started with a simple Village Meeting and quickly developed into something bigger, more festive, and filled with all sort of unique characters and costumes.

Personally, I LOVE these parties.

Someone sang Adele’s version of a Bob Dylan song called “Make You Feel My Love” and it was heart wrenching.

There were belly dancers with swords and those little metal finger instruments that go ding, ding, ding.

Castanets?

Then we had a performer show off his spinning skills with light up wands that portrayed images from this year’s Burning Man theme of Metamorphosis – BUTTERFLIES!

It was awe inspiring.

I personally climbed into the big limousine cuddle puddle for some quiet time and snuggling.

Burner parties are the best.

Everyone is encouraged to bring their talents to share with others and I must say, it really turns into a showcase.

Some displays that were there but that I missed included wax play, ropes, and a quiz to find your kinks.

That’s right.

Take a quiz to discover your kinks.

There was also a couple giving 4-handed massages.

Can you imagine what that feels like?

Oh, and the cocktail – The Frisky Whiskey – was delicious, complete with a red vine straw to sip from.

Personally, I got some GREAT advice about my son’s situation, something that’s been weighing on my mind lately.

I saw old friends and made new friends and honestly, I just HAD A BLAST!

You throw THE BEST parties Bad Boy!

Thank you for hosting.

Sunny in Florida

Now that I’m going to Florida to see The Swede and his daughter, I’ve been thinking about the next most important thing.

What to wear.

Granted, I have a ton of sundresses in my closet, but I can’t help myself.

I’m scoping out new sundresses online:

This happens to be one of my favorites.

It comes in all sorts of colors and is, for all intents and purposes, backless.

Very sexy!

Then there’s this dress:

OMG!

I get giddy just looking at it!

Comfort and style.

Perfect for throwing over a bathing suit and heading to a restaurant.

And then, I found THIS dress:

A little more formal.

Great for an evening out or just puttering around the house, looking beautiful.

Something I am great at.

[Cough]

I also happen to really like this dress

Even though I’m not sure it comes in my size, I’m totally in love with it.

The off the shoulder look.

The floral print.

Just beautiful.

I want The Swede to see me at my best, in dresses that make me feel beautiful and sexy.

But seeing as how his daughter will be playing in hockey tournaments, I will also need something warmish to wear in the arena.

Like a long sleeve sundress:

Oh, the WARDROBE I’d build if I had the income.